Midnight Confessions
by Winchester84
Summary: Sam sits cross-legged on top of the covers of his own bed mere feet away, facing Dean as he sleeps, who is blissfully unaware of his audience. xWINCESTx


**Title:** Midnight Confessions  
**Author:** winchester84  
**Fandom:** SPN  
**Pairing:** Dean/Sam  
**Rated:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Angst  
**Summary:** Sam sits cross-legged on top of the covers of his own bed mere feet away, facing Dean as he sleeps, who is blissfully unaware of his audience.

**Disclaimer:** None of this is mine, and none of what you are about to read has happened in real life, obviously.

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**Midnight Confessions**

The light from the moon seeps in through a gap in the curtain, sending a silvery-bluish hue across the expanse of Dean's bared chest and face, peaceful and calm in slumber. The worry lines that seem to find their way onto his face in the waking hours are nowhere to be seen, one hand lies limply on his belly while the other fists the sheets hanging off his hips. The alarm clock on the nightstand glares angrily through the darkness, the blood red numbers flicking from 11:59 to 12:00.

Sam sits cross-legged on top of the covers of his own bed mere feet away, facing Dean as he sleeps, who is blissfully unaware of his audience. Sam knows he should be sleeping as well, is going to be tired as hell come morning, but he just cannot give up the chance to see his brother like this. Dean is always gorgeous, he could be sick as hell and still be beautiful to Sam, but there is just something about Dean when he is asleep that Sam finds fascinating.

For the past three weeks Sam has waited until Dean has fallen asleep, refusing himself the same luxury just so he can watch his brother for a while. He is always dead tired in the morning, and he thinks Dean is getting a little suspicious, but he thankfully hasn't questioned Sam. Not yet anyway. There is always that unspoken question in his eyes but he so far hasn't voiced his concerns. Sam knows his luck is going to run out soon, though, and silently tells himself that tonight will be the last night that he allows himself to watch Dean sleep, at least for a while anyway.

He doesn't want to have to explain to Dean why he is so tired these days, doesn't want his brother to know the thoughts that creep into his head most often when he looks at him, the desire that boils just below the surface. Dean cannot be aware of the fantasies that take place in Sam's head of the two of them together, or the dreams Sam has had where they play the leading roles.

Dean would never understand; there is no way that he could. He isn't twisted, isn't a freak like Sam, so there's no possible way he could understand. He knows Dean would never turn him away, even if he knew the truth of Sam's feelings, but he would be disgusted and Sam couldn't handle that.

He couldn't bear it if his brother were to learn the truth but Sam also refuses to be ashamed of his love for Dean. He honestly couldn't bear it if Dean was to look at him any differently, he doesn't want his brother to think badly of him, but he also can't be sorry for how he feels. He has always felt different around Dean, strangely anxious and he'd sometimes pop wood when his brother would lounge around the house shirtless. It wasn't until after Dean came for him at Stanford that he embraced those feelings and allowed them to be named, though.

He isn't afraid to admit, at least to himself, that he is in love with Dean. He has been ever since he was a teenager; he just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it back then. He knows what these feelings are, though, and he can't help but think it may be worse now than it was back when he was a teen. Mainly because he knows what he is feeling, isn't just consumed by confusion, and he can't do anything about it.

Sam watches, almost in a trance, as Dean's chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. He longs to reach out and smooth his hand down the length of that chest, shining from the light of the moon, and he wonders if his brother's skin would feel as silky smooth underneath his fingertips as it appears. He yearns to cup Dean's stubble rough cheek and press a feather light kiss to that heart shaped mouth like has wanted to for years.

He knows he can't do that, though, can't risk the chance of Dean waking up and finding him out. He can imagine the scene in his head, can see it all going down when he closes his eyes. He knows Dean would freak out, and Sam couldn't blame him if he did, brothers aren't supposed to kiss their siblings. Sam knows this, obviously, but that doesn't take the want away.

He allows himself a moment to wonder what it would be like if things were different and they shared the same desire. Sam has no doubts that a relationship would be wonderful, knows with almost absolute certainty that being with Dean would be amazing. It would be the only good thing in their damn lives, at the end of the day it would be the one thing that remains. They might not have much in this world, but that would be the one thing they could call theirs.

Sam knows, deep down, there is no reason to wish for such things. Dean is never going to feel the same way that Sam does so he really should just accept this and try to move on. He can't seem to do that, though. He has always longed for the things he couldn't have and Dean has been the one constant thing in Sam's life that he has yearned for day in and day out. His time away at Stanford didn't dispel his feelings; it did the opposite in fact. Like that saying 'Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder'… Well, Sam knows from experience just how much truth that saying holds.

His brother is like a forbidden fruit and the temptation is almost too much for Sam to resist. He wishes he had the courage to tell Dean how he feels, hoping that on the off chance his brother might feel something in return they could finally be honest with one another and see where this attraction takes them. Deep down, however, Sam knows he is dealing with a one-sided love.

Sam lips upturn into a little watery smile as he eyes his brother fondly as Dean shifts in his sleep, unaware that Sam's heart is aching silently and reaching out to him through the darkness.

"There has been something I've wanted to tell you for years," Sam whispers, safe in the knowledge that only the walls of this room and Dean's unconscious ears will ever hear these words.

"I think you're amazing, Dean. I don't know if I have ever shown my gratitude for all you've done for me through the years, but I need you to know that I appreciate all you've done and sacrificed for this family. I've wanted to say this for a long time, so, thank you Dean." Sam says softly but with feeling.

"Thank you for taking care of me when dad was too busy hunting to remember he needed to be a father too, for being there and giving me the best childhood you could manage, for making all those holidays and birthdays special and different each year because you knew how upset it made me when dad would miss them time and time again." Sam smiles as he recalls all of this, reliving it after all this time. "But, most of all, thank you for always being the one person I could count on; the one person who has always been there,"

Sam stops and takes a deep breath, needing to say this yet scared as hell at the same time, even though he knows Dean can't hear him. "I love you, Dean… I think I always have. I know it's wrong, and there really must be something wrong with me for feeling the way I do, but I won't apologize for my feelings. I refuse to be ashamed and I'll never apologize for falling in love with you. You're the best thing in my life and I'd do anything for you.

"I just wish I could tell you this when you're awake and taking in my every word. I'm not going to risk losing you, though, in any sense, so I'll keep my feelings to myself and will never breathe a word of this again. My confession won't leave this room; these walls will be the only thing that knows that truth. But I needed to say it to you, if only for myself…"

Sam feels his breath hitching in his throat as he trails off, his emotions getting the best of him. He really wishes he could say all this to Dean but he knows that isn't possible, he'll just have to be satisfied with being able to speak his heart in the dead of night.

"I love you, Dean, more than anything in this world." Sam whispers before lying down on his back and closing his eyes. Even though Dean isn't aware of how deeply he cares, he feels a little better knowing he has spoken the words aloud, and having Dean be in the room made it a little better as well. He technically told his brother how he felt, so that will have to do for now. _Maybe one day I'll have the courage to tell him_, Sam thinks even as he acknowledges the fact that he is lying to himself, and then he drifts off to sleep.

All is still in the shadowed room, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, as Dean opens his eyes and looks at his younger brother. "I love you, too, Sam." He whispers solemnly, knowing they don't stand a fighting chance with so many things working against them. They might want to be together, but Dean knows this world and the people in it will keep them apart, and that is what makes this hurt the most.

**The End**


End file.
